Part 19 (1/2)

CHAPTER XV

RESCUED

It was well into the dry season. As far as the eye could reach lay an expanse of sun-baked ground dotted with scrub and parched gra.s.s, terminating in the rugged outlines of the Karewenda Geberge. In the clear African atmosphere the hills, although a good forty miles distant, looked no more than ten or twelve miles away. With a powerful telescope an outpost on the high ground ought to be able to spot the khaki-clad hors.e.m.e.n as they spurred across the bush.

The patrol had no immediate intention of following the fugitive's spoor. Their idea was to cut off his retreat by keeping on a parallel route until they had out-distanced him, and then, by extending to the right, to achieve their object. It was a game of hide-and-seek on a large scale--a contest of wits. Around the spot where the Hun was supposed to be an extended cordon was being formed. It was up to him to break through--if he could, but once detected he stood little chance against a well-mounted patrol composed of some of the crack shots of Rhodesia.

”We've cut across his spoor,” announced one of the men. ”Jones has just semaph.o.r.ed through. We've nabbed him this time.”

The order was pa.s.sed from man to man for the investing hors.e.m.e.n to contract the enfolding circle. Each man, his rifle ready for instant use, trotted towards an imaginary centre, the while keeping his eyes on the alert for signs of the fugitive.

Then, without warning, a column of smoke, beaten down by the strong northerly wind, rose from the scrub at a point a good two miles off.

In a very short s.p.a.ce of time the cloud increased in density of volume, moving with the rapidity of a trotting horse.

At the signal the patrol closed. The situation was serious, for not only were the chances of a successful pursuit knocked on the head, but there was the danger of the men being overtaken by the flames.

”Start another fire down wind,” suggested one of the Rhodesians.

”The horses won't stand it,” objected another. ”They're getting jumpy already.”

The man spoke truly. The animals, scenting danger, were becoming restless. The order was therefore given to mount, and the patrol galloped back in the direction of the Kiwa River, never drawing rein until they reached a ford two miles below the spot where they had crossed earlier in the day.

So swift was the advance of the bush-fire that the scrub on the furthermost bank was ablaze within twenty minutes of the time when the patrol recrossed the river, while right and left for miles the ground was covered with fiercely roaring flames. Clouds of black and brownish smoke swept across the stream, red hot embers mingling with the eddying vapour.

The patrol held their ground, keeping their horses under control by adopting the expedient of covering the horses' heads with blankets.

With the possibility of the bush on their side of the river taking fire this was the safest course to pursue short of a forty mile ride across difficult country with the devouring element hard at their heels.

Mingled with the roar of the flames came the frequent crashes of falling trees, and the hiss of blazing embers as they fell into the water. The heat was terrific, while at times the smoke was so dense and suffocating that the men had the greatest difficulty to breathe.

Elephants, bush-cows, rhinoceri and swarms of smaller animals, stampeded by the flames, plunged panic-stricken into the river, taking no notice of the men as they dashed past them.

For two hours the ordeal lasted, then, having consumed everything of a combustible nature the fire burnt itself out. Almost miraculously the flames had failed to gain a hold upon the scrub on the nearmost bank.

The river had formed the furthermost limit, but across the stream as far as the eye could reach there was nothing to be seen but an expanse of blackened thorn-bushes, from which a faint bluish vapour rose in the now still and sultry air.

”Nothing more doing to-day, boys,” declared the leader of the patrol.

”We'll bivouac close to the village and try our luck to-morrow. Ground will be cool enough by then, I reckon.”

”Von Gobendorff won't stand much chance in that,” remarked another, indicating the devastated ground. ”We may find his remains. That'll be some satisfaction.”

”Unless he started the fire,” added Wilmshurst.

”But we were surrounding his hiding-place,” declared the first speaker.

”We believe we were,” continued the subaltern. ”It's just likely that we missed his spoor, and that he was to windward of us. The fire may have started spontaneously, but it's my belief that von Gobendorff fired the gra.s.s.”

At daybreak on the following morning the patrol recrossed the river.

With a heavy dew still upon the ground the devastated track gave the horses no inconvenience, although the air was heavy with the pungent smell of charred wood. In extended order they followed the track which the fugitive had been reported to have taken until they arrived at the further-most limit of the fire.